APH UkUs Bad Dog
by DarkmoonSigel
Summary: First published on Deviant Art. If you like, go check out WatcherAngel. The story is based on her artwork. Mostly written from England/Arthur's POV although Chapter 3 is written from America/Alfred's POV Vampire England x Werewolf America with a side of Werewolf Canada x Vampire France Rated M for a reason. YAOI Don't like. Don't read. SMUT
1. Chapter 1

If one were to inquire, I would be inclined to admit one of the most annoying things in my life(or unlife as it were) was to be awoken in the middle of the day by some daft hunter.

"Now you shall meet your end!", said some poorly dressed chap with a stake posed over my heart.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't announce yourself first, fool.", I snapped thoroughly put out at being woke up so early. I could already feel that true nightfall wasn't for several more hours and I had been having the most enjoyable dream about tea I could not longer drink and scones I could not longer eat. Now all I had to look forward to now was a damn headache until the sun put itself to bed. The hunter jumped back in surprise at my sudden and very alert state.

"Foul fiend! Back to the depths of hell from whence you came!", the hunter yelled(very dramatically I might add-seriously where do they find these hams?) to brandish a cross at me.

"What are you blathering on about now? I am from London, not the underworld, though for your sake you had better not have dragged mud all over my clean floors tromping about looking for me. I promised it will go badly for you if that is the case.", I glared, studying my uninvited guest. He looked like a peasant who had gotten some silly notion in his head that morning that he could go out and hunt vampires.

He started to shake the cross at me in answer as if I had somehow failed to notice it that gaudy piece of crap. "Do be a good chap and stop waving that thing at me. It doesn't work. Frankly I think you might be able to do more damage with it if you tried throwing it.", I said dryly. Despite popular belief, pop culture, and a multitude of poorly written novels, crosses, garlic, sunlight, and other gimmicky things do not work on vampires. It's all rubbish that was made up by Bram Stoker for a laugh, the chap being a vampire himself. Dippy Irish bastard thought it would be funny.

My potential murderer looked especially pained when he realized what I was saying was true, especially when I got up out of my coffin.

…Yes, yes… I know it is terribly cliché. I usually prefer a bed but as a protective measure, you can't really ever beat a coffin. It does provide a valuable line of defense. The things are noisy to open for one, especially when one refrains from oiling the hinges. It helps to prevent that random 'get murdered in your sleep by any prat with a stake' issue.

Before you get any ideas, stakes don't work either so please put that out of your minds. They are just a bloody nuisance that ruins a perfectly good suit. I can't even begin to tell you of all the shirts I have gone through because some silly arse had to put a hole through it. Needless to say, my sewing skills are impeccable now as is my ability to take out blood stains from silk.

It appeared my thoughts had distracted me for too long, because it would seem that the would be hunter had finally rallied mentally. He dug around in his satchel for something as I took a moment to straighten my clothing. Things got so wrinkled just laying down. I politely waited for him to collect himself in the mean time. He seemed terribly nervous now, pulling out random religious symbols to throw them at me to no effect of course. Eventually he produced several clear vials of liquid which he promptly uncapped to empty the contents out onto my person.

"That was quite unnecessary I assure you.", I grumbled, pulling out a handkerchief to dry myself off with, "This had better not stain, you twat." I paused to sample some of the clear fluid, licking the excess off of my skin. The hunter brightened considerably for a second as I gagged, wincing noticeably at the taste.

"Is this supposed to be holy water? It tastes like the bottom of well.", I told him. The man paled at this, obviously out of ideas as he fiddled nervously with his stake.

"You really should run away now while I am still drying off.", I suggested kindly. The former hunter took the offer up, sprinting with a new lease on life out of my bedroom. That lasted only a few minutes though, a scream alerting me that he had fallen into one of the many death traps I had set up in my mansion, bloody ineffective things that they were.

"Brilliant, just brilliant. There is another mess I'll have to go clean up now.", I sighed. I had to get a better security system.

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After cleaning up the remains of the dearly departed idiot, I decided to take a moonlit stroll in the forest to clear my head and ponder my obvious problem. What to do?

Ghoul servants were a hassle and more often than naught got creepily obsessed with their employer. They also tended to develop odd habits like eating bugs and spiders, and blaming it on their master's unholy influence, little drama queens that they were. No thank you. I will not be having any of that nonsense in my house.

Ghosts, bats, and fairies were unreliable at best, though I kept a good number of them around anyway simply because I enjoyed their company.

Joining a coven was out of the question as well. Even though there was strength in numbers, I could barely stand another vampire's company much less an entire coven of them. Plus the only nearby coven was made up of those Russian vampires, a brother and his two sisters with some Baltics they had decided to turn as well. That was a whole lot of weird I was not willing to deal with.

I could always set up more traps but that was just a hassle and I would have to remember to check them occasionally and clean them out. That was another task I did not enjoy. If only I could find a solution that ran interference with the intruders before they even got to my door and keep them away from it permanently.

"Bollocks.", I sighed, no real answer in sight.

"Awwwwww. Zuch a heavy zigh….Tell Big Brother, what weighz your heart down zo, Angleterre?", said an all too familiar voice of my closest and most annoying neighbor from somewhere behind me. I had sensed him earlier but had ignored him hoping he would return the favor. Obviously not.

"Sod off frog. I don't need to deal with you as well. I have had more than enough aggravations for one evening.", I groaned, really not in the mood to trade barbs with the French vampire. Francis Bonnefoy was a pompous ass of a former nobleman turned immortal and was just a little older than I was, which was to say he was ancient. He also happened to live just down the road from me. I swear his mere presence was bringing down the property value.

"Boo. Zo rude.", Francis fake pouted as he fell into step with me, despite the death glare I was giving him, "And here I waz about to zhow you my new puppy dog."

"As if I would care about some poodle you decided coddle for a week before you eat it.", I sneered, increasing my pace aggressively. Francis could never take a hint though, matching it to follow me.

"But he iz zo cute! Even your shriveled black heart would fall to hiz charmz and grace.", Francis whined, ignoring my insults in favor of sounding pathetic.

"It sounds like you are talking more about a lover than a damn dog.", I huffed, giving up to come to a sudden halt in a clearing.

"Oui. He iz both.", Francis grinned. I stared back at him, wishing I felt surprised by this.

"I don't care how old I get, I will never sink to your level, pervert and resort to bestiality.", I told him flatly with my best unimpressed look. I was treated to a completely stunned expression from him in return .

"WHAT!?", Francis's jaw fell open, "What are you talking about?!"

"Are you having me on then?", I snapped back, coming to the end of my patience which is admittedly short when dealing with the inane and/or the French, "What in the bloody hell are you talking about then?". I was starting to get a dull headache again from the confusing conversation.

"Mon Dieu! Let me just show you.", Francis gave me a hurt look before pulling out a small flute from his pocket. It was simply made and appeared shaped from a finger bone. Francis played a tune I could barely hear on it even with my heightened vampire senses. The song was answered almost immediately by a low howl that hung in the night air. I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I could have sworn that that call had been made by none other than a werewolf, but that would be ridiculous. Like 'suicide just wasn't painful enough for me, I had to make it interesting as well' ridiculous.

"You called Francis?"

I jumped and when I say 'I jumped' I mean I lifted straight off the ground to hover a good thirty feet above it. No one had been able to sneak up on me in centuries until tonight, and I wasn't too thrilled about the prospect of someone being able to tonight. I peered down cautiously at a tall blond now standing next to Francis, who was grinning up at me like a cat on crack, the fucking bastard.

"Oh, sorey aboot that.", the strange blonde said in whispery tones, blinking owlishly up at me from behind silver frames. I knew immediately what he was, his musky scent unmistakable.

"Angleterre, if you would ztop being rude and do the coming down, I'll introduce you properly.", Francis said obviously fighting back laughter as he deliberately hit a sore point with me. He knew how much I valued being a gentleman. I valued being alive even more at the moment though and stayed where I was.

"The sodding hell I will! What are you doing with a bloody werewolf?!", I growled out from my airy perch. Werewolves and vampires famously did not get along well with each other but not for the reasons Hollywood would have you believe. It was more about hunting grounds and rights, entirely all politics really. Conflicts were few and far between but they did occasionally happen with very destructive results so we generally as a pair of aggressive species tried not to associate with one another. Peace was maintained on the 'If I ignore you, you have to ignore me' policy. A little preschool, but best to keep it simple for everyone's sake involved.

"How rude! Quit being zo damn English and come down.", Francis stomped his foot even going so far as to snap his fingers at me before pointing to the ground, like I was a naughty cat on top of a piece of furniture.

I floated down gracefully, conjuring up some wind on the way down to flair up my cape dramatically. I used my magic whenever I could around Francis, the French vampire lacking the ability entirely. I liked to rub it in his hairy face whenever possible. Although what Francis lacked in magic, he made up for it with his powers of seduction. He excelled in the seducing effect most vampires have to some degree naturally….Except for me it would seem. I sorely lacked in that department for whatever reason much to Francis's eternal amusement.

Francis chose to ignore my snub today though, turning to his companion. "Thiz iz Matthieu MapleEater of the Canada tribe. He haz just moved here and he iz my new puppy!", Francis cooed, rubbing a hand through the lad's shoulder length wavy hair. I tried not to gag. Much to my surprise, this Matthew only blushed at the audacious statement.

"Francis…", he mumbled, ducking his head shyly. Up close, Matthew was a good looking bloke with light blonde hair that had an odd curl that hung over his forehead. It gave him a rather innocent look, even in my jaded opinion. He had pretty light purple eyes as well and pale skin that glowed pearly white under the moon's light. He was dressed a bit too casually for my personal tastes in threadbare jeans and red hoodie. Oddly enough, Matthew was carrying around a small polar bear cub that was giving me the finger. I raised an eyebrow at it.

"Oh this is Kuma….Maple! Don't do that!", Matthew started to introduce the little miscreant to have the bear snap at him.

"It's Kumajirou. You never get it right.", the bear growled sulkily.

"That's because you keep changing it.", Matthew sighed, "Sorey, but he's my baby cousin. He's just kinda stuck in his animal transformation right now…..Um….yeah, it's very nice to finally meet you though, eh. Francis talks aboot you all the time."

"Charming.", I muttered, "Why are you talking to him at all? I'm sure you could find far better company elsewhere."

"Because he iz living with me now. Besidez, he knowz witty and intelligent conversation when he hearz it.", Francis answered for him.

"Two adjectives I would never use to describe you or your company.", I yawned. Francis was making this far too easy for me tonight. "Really lad, I could recommend some lovely hotels. You don't have to stay with the frog."

"He iz living with me to watch over me while I zleep so that my beauty slumber is not disturbed.", Francis retorted haughtily.

"What a terrible waste of a day considering that there is simply not enough sleep in the world that can fix ugly for you.", I smirked.

"Zome one got up on the grumpy zide of the coffin tonight. Oh wait, that iz every night.", Francis shot back.

"First off, that was weak…..even for you. Secondly, it's not my fault. Some git tried to stake me earlier.", I sniffed unimpressed. I was going bored by this exchange. Francis's eyes grew wide though at the mention of the hunter.

"Merde. That iz the fourth one this month. One of theze dayz, they are going to get zmart enough to just burn down the mansion with you in it. What are you planning to do?", Francis asked. As much as it pained me to admit it, the snail sucker did have a point. While all the other legends about us were poppycock, fire and decapitation were two very definite ways of ending a vampire existence….for a little while anyway. There are ways of coming back from it. It is just a pain in the arse and takes forever to accomplish.

"I'll set up some more traps I guess….Build a moat perhaps? I haven't had one of those in a couple of centuries.", I mused, shrugging.

"I think I may be able to help.", Matthew interjected, making Francis and I both startle. Apparently I wasn't the only one who had forgotten that he was there, the werewolf practically invisible to perception if one wasn't talking to or with him it would seem.

"How so?", I asked genuinely curious, "I thought you were already protecting Francis." I sincerely hoped he was not going to offer up the polar bear as the answer.

"I have a brother who might be able to help you.", Matthew said, looking strangely cautious.

"I'm certain not in the market for a pet, thank you.", I said dismissively, feeling my hopes fall once more.

"Well how's aboot a bodyguard then, eh?", Matthew countered a bit testily. That made me pause as I stared at the pale blonde. Perhaps I had been a touch too hasty in my judgment.

"Would he be willing to do it? Guard over a sleeping vampire?", I wondered aloud, "Even rescue me, if the need calls for it?.

"Yeah sure. Al lives for stuff like that plus it would keep him out of trouble.", Matthew said, "He is a bit of a lone wolf though, if you'll excuse the term.".

"Well…I have to admit I am a bit of that myself…..I guess we could give it a go.", I said slowly. I reasoned I would only have to see him part of the evening when I got up and early in the morning when I went to bed. My mansion was more than big enough and it wasn't like I had any other servants to worry about.

"Will it take long to get in contact with him?", I inquired curiously. If he could start by the end of the night, I could go to sleep in my bed instead of that damn coffin. I felt almost giddy at the prospect of pillows and sheets.

"No, not at all.", Matthew smiled softly. He titled back his head to work out a loud howl from his throat. After a few minutes, it was answered back.

"Good. He'll be here soon.", Matthew nodded, after yipping out some gibberish, directions I assumed.

"Your brother. Is he like you?", I asked, wanting to get some idea of the monster I was about to meet. Matthew seemed very polite and was extremely quiet. If his brother was even a little bit like him, this could go quite well.,…

…..except Matthew's face had an oddly blank expression on it now….the kind people wore when Grandma was sitting half naked at the dining room table having an argument about politics with the turkey and losing cause the stuffing refused to take her side in the matter.

"Well…..ah….Al is….well…..Al.", Matthew stammered, laughing nervously. I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, further weighed down by the sounds of something large moving toward us at great speed.

"THE HERO HAS ARRIVED!" was all the warning I got before something huge barreled into me, knocking me flat upon my back. Shaking the stars out of my vision, I looked up into radiant sky blue eyes and a wide pearly smile set in a tanned face.

"Hi! I'm Alfred StarChaser formerly of the American tribes! Who are you and why are you on the ground?", the werewolf asked outright, wagging his tail. Unlike his obviously calmer brother, Alfred still had some noticeable wolfish features. For the most part, he could pass for normal with a muscular tanned body sporting broad bare shoulders, a sculpted torso, and toned arms. Not that I noticed or anything…A pair of jeans hung onto his lower body for dear life, tanned skin peeking through the noticeable gaps in the leg wear. The pointed ears the same blonde color of his hair that perched on top of his head, the long golden tail protruding just over his firm ass, and razor sharp, too long canines that peeked through his smile marked him as inhuman though.

"I am on the ground because of you, dolt!", I growled menacingly up at him. It didn't seem to faze the sunny werewolf though in the slightest as he moved off of me. To add insult to injury, Alfred scooped me up off of the ground bridal style as if I weighed nothing. Before I could end him brutally, I found Alfred's face shoved into my own-my face, neck, and anywhere else he could reach from my position in his arms- to be sniffed my skin thoroughly. I was so stunned by the intimate invasion of my personal space I stared back at him mortified, sputtering nonsensical noises. Despite my disbelief of the situation, Alfred was being quite thorough about it, the tip of his nose trailing across every bit of me he could get at, his preference of the bare parts of my skin noticeable. More to my surprise, I realized how gentle he was being about it. While still too close for comfort, he had a very intent look upon his rather handsome face(not that I noticed), his eyes closed in concentration. I also realized he didn't smell too bad himself. I didn't know what I expected werewolves to smell like, but Alfred carried an earthy musk smell on his person, layered with cedar and pine. It was actually quite pleasant…..

…..or would have been if that twat Francis hadn't started to snicker, reminding me this little exercise was still being witnessed. Just as suddenly as it had started though, it ended. Alfred's eyes snapped open as he turned to his twin.

"So what's up Mattie? Why'd ya call me?", Alfred asked, still holding me as though if it was the most normal thing in the world for him.

"Al…I think you should put Arthur down now…", Matthew suggested, Francis practically rolling on the ground with laughter behind him. The Canadian was met with blank look though.

"Who's that?", Alfred asked. The need to kill was growing so very strong within me.

"That would be the vampire you are holding right now….You know the one who looks ready to gut you.", Matthew supplied helpfully, taking a couple of steps back from us.

"Awwwwww, do I have to?", Alfred pouted, really not reading the atmosphere around him at all. If Francis wasn't already technically dead, I am positive he would have gone into asphyxiation from all the enjoyment he was getting from my current situation. My pride refused to give him the pleasure though, as I refrained from tearing the werewolf's head off…..at least in the literal sense.

"Yes! Yes you do! I happen to be an extremely powerful, two thousand year old vampire and not your bloody chew toy, you miserable git!", I yelled, smacking the blonde upside his head. For a moment, I thought I got through to him, his wolf ears going back momentarily.

"Wow. You're really old. I'm only like about 300.", Alfred grinned, still not putting me down. Fed up entirely, I used my magic to jet myself high overhead again, well out of reach. Alfred looked up at me with astonished wide eyes. "Neat trick. How'd ya do it?"

"Your grammar is dreadful.", I told him, "How the hell do you think I did it? Magic of course."

"Phssst. So not real. Is it magnets? C'mon you can tell me.", Alfred said, looking under and around me in obvious search for his magnets.

"Says the werewolf to the vampire floating five meters about his head. Are you an idiot? Dropped at birth as a pup once too often perhaps?", I growled out in disbelief. Surely this idiot believed in magic…right? It was the cornerstone of both our societies. To say he didn't believe in magic was like saying he didn't believe in the sun rising.

"I'm going with magnets, but don't worry! Your secret is safe with me.", Alfred told me sagely, giving two thumbs to go along with his assessment.

"Brilliant.", I spat before turning to Matthew, "I am terribly sorry, but this was a mistake. He is simply too stupid for me to even be around."

"HEY!", Alfred yipped in dismayed tones.

"Hush poppet. You are. You really and truly are.", I told him, before turning back to Matthew, "You seem quite lovely, so I would sincerely recommend that you brutally kill the frog and move on with your life. Please take your daft brother with you and good luck with all your future endeavors. Cheers."

With that I flew off into the night, never to see that dippy werewolf with the pretty blue eyes again…..

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…or so I thought.

I was getting ready for bed i.e. dusting off the coffin when I heard movement coming from down the hall.

"Well, isn't that just gorgeous. Another hunter. The perfect shite ending to my perfectly shite night.", I muttered, moving toward the door. Before my fingers could even touch the handle though, it flew inward and I found myself on my back again staring up into too blue eyes.

"Sodding hell! What are you doing here?!", I snapped, cuffing the werewolf angrily as I tried to get up. Alfred was quite heavy though and dawn was very near, sapping some of my considerable strength.

"Awwww, don't be like that. Mattie told me what was going on.", Alfred whined, making no move to get off my prone person, "I can help!"

"How? By sitting your lard ass on top of intruders, because that it all I have seen you do. Go away and quit wasting my time. You can't even change all the way human.", I sighed, shoving at the being above me. I froze when my hands met fur, my gaze following into that of a full wolf. His transformation had been so smooth and quick I had missed it entirely.

To those not familiar with the supernatural, werewolves can never be mistaken for a wolf as one would find them in nature. The human mind compensates for a lot of unexplainable things, this being one of them. A wolf just happens to be the animal they most resemble in passing.

Werewolves are massive creatures, the size of small ponies and built like tanks made of muscle and fur with gaping jaws full of teeth and claws that can shred metal as easily as wet paper. One werewolf is a force unto itself and wicked enough for things that are stupid enough to come in its way. What makes these supernatural creatures even more dangerous and a force to be openly feared is that they almost never travel alone. If one member of the pack doesn't finish off whatever they are hunting, another would. It is one of the reasons your smart, solitary preferring vampires leaves them well enough alone. With my all magic and being freshly fed, I could comfortably hold my own against an entire wolf pack but not when one was right on top of me, its jaws just inches from my throat.

I gritted my teeth, waiting for Alfred to strike, as I remembered all the insults I had heaped upon him earlier coming back to bite me in the arse or face as it were. He may be an incredible stupid werewolf but it didn't make him any less dangerous, something I should have remembered. I felt Alfred lunged forward.

My deadly expectations were met with a warm soppy tongue that coated my pale cheeks in a thick, sticky layer of salvia that dripped off of my chin.

"GAHHHH!", I yelled in disgust, shoving the werewolf off of me finally so that I could attempt to dry off my face. Alfred sat back on his haunches and wagged his tail at me, a big stupid doggy grin on his lupine face. I saw that he was a honey colored wolf in shades of bright and light gold, his ridiculous blue eyes made even more striking by the rich coloring of his fur. I barely blinked to have Alfred transformed again, this time looking fully human…..and naked.

"Have some shame!", I blushed, reaching behind me to snag a blanket off of the bed. I tossed it to him, trying to not look or at least trying not to be too obvious about it. Alfred looked amused as he stood up to wrap the covering around his narrow waist. I got up as well, keeping myself busy by straightening my clothes.

"I wanted to come apologize….", Alfred said gruffly, playing with the knot he had just tied into the blanket to keep the garment up on his slanted hips. It still hung dangerously low on them, revealed a golden path of coarse curls that led tantalizingly downward…not that I noticed.

"About?", I managed out, pulling my gaze upward. Alfred was still studying his knot so he wasn't helping me much with eye contact. I settled on watching the play of muscles in his arms and shoulders. I tried to focus on his next words and not on how his skin would taste under my lips and tongue. I would bet any amount that he tasted like sunshine and where the wild things were.

"…Um…..I'm….well you see, I'm not so great at meeting new people. I get over excited and spaz out even though I don't mean to. I say…dumb things….you may have noticed….", Alfred said haltedly, finally looking up to see if I was paying attention. I most certainly was just not entirely where he wanted.

"You're young. Not even 300 hundred yet, I believe you said. Nothing you can't learn, lad, from the proper teacher.", I said softly, drawing nearer. I could feel the warmth radiating off of his golden skin, like a furnace. His smooth skin looked so soft too, like brown sugar and cocoa butter. I wanted to run my fingers over it, through it.

"Yeah! That's what me and Mattie were thinking! Francis said that you are were like all into rules and shit…..and…dude, what is wrong with your eyes?", Alfred blinked in surprise at my emerald eyes turned glowing rubies.

"The better to see you, my dear.", I smirked, my deceptively slender arms going around his neck. I could crush cars with my bare hands. Just as it is never a good idea to have am angry werewolf above you, if is double bad one to have a hungry vampire at your neck.

"Oh my, what big teeth you have there grandma.", Alfred grinned hungrily back, his arms going downward to start caressing my back and my ass over my clothes until he trialed lower to the inner parts of my thighs grazing the tightness of my sack and the hardness of my growing erection. The lad was quicker than he had previous let on much to my inner delight.

"Bad Dog."

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We ended up on the bed, Alfred's temporary clothing torn off and my own thrown out of sight to far off corners of the room never to be seen again that evening. The werewolf was on his hands and knees, splayed out before me with three of my fingers already deep in him, slickly stroking his inner walls and teasing oversensitive nerves that had been worked almost to their breaking point. Alfred's tail and ears had reappeared in his excited state, the new lower appendage not really bothering me. If anything, I used it to my fullest advantage by pulling on it for leverage as I plunged deeper into his tight recesses, spreading my fingers wider as I went.

Alfred was whining high sharp little noises and looking over his shoulder at me with large puppy dog eyes for more. Every time I touched myself with my free hand, his complaints grew, his begging turning into needy yips that grated on my sensitive ears.

"Did I tell you to speak?", I purred, licking my lips as I turned my fingers roughly this way and that in him. Alfred reacted beautifully for me, gasping for air as he pushed back greedily against me seeking more, hungry animal he was.

"Bad dogs get punished.", I warned with a small sigh, leaning over him to bite into the back of his neck causing the werewolf to arch against the mattress sharply as my own jagged teeth broke the surface of his skin. His blood filled my mouth, coating my throat thickly. I almost swooned at its flavor, so rich and full of life, as I rolled his blood across my tongue, the crimson liquid searing hot as I swallowed it down. Alfred panted underneath me as I lapped the wound close, though it was unnecessary. His natural healing factor closed up the bites all on its own. The werewolf trembled for relief but clever boy that he actually was, stayed quiet about it this time.

"Someone is a fast learner.", I mused, pulling my fingers out of him, the digits squelching wetly in their exit. Alfred growled at the lost, his golden ears pressed back flat against his head, obviously put out about the lack of stimulation. He started to rise up turning toward me, his lovely muscles all tense and quivering with adrenaline and barely suppressed need. Alfred glared at me with azure eyes hazy with anger and darkened a shade in blue with lust. I practically felt giddy at the prospect of a real challenge.

Now the real fun began. Werewolves could switch hit between the two emotions of fight or fuck so easily. It was common knowledge that dominants and submissives were important roles among their kind where only some wolves got to be Alphas in the hierarchy. Alfred didn't strike me as the willing bottom type or a being who was easily led. The werewolf in my bed needed to fuck or fight something right now or risk going feral.

Unfortunately for him, I was full of his delicious blood now and was not about to be made into some wolf's bitch. My house, my rules.

"Bad dog. Sit.", I stated in iron tones, putting some of my power behind the words. It was more than enough to make him pause for a second to blink dumbly in shock at me as my empirical will washed over him, which was far more time than I needed. Moving supernaturally fast, I struck sure and quick, kicking out his arms and legs so that he scrawled out messily on the bed.

"Down boy.", I commanded, grabbing the back of his head in a rough grip to twist my fingers sharply in the gold fibers. Alfred snapped his jaw uselessly in response even as his face was being pressed hard into the mattress. I positioned myself over him, one knee holding his neck down, the other digging into the small of his back. Alfred still fought me at every turn though, trying to upset me off of him. I reassessed the situation quickly as we struggled for the power position.

I usually preferred to take my time whenever I had a bedmate but dominant play was important here on so many different levels. It would literally set the tone for our entire relationship whatever it ended up being-casual, professional, sexual…..I had to keep him submissive the entire time if I wanted to stay in control. That left me with very few options unfortunately.

I could beat him into submission. His body could definitely take the abuse, able to heal anything I did to him effortlessly given enough time. The blood play from the violence would be an added bonus, but taking an unconscious body did not sit well with my gentleman nature.

I could drain him. As before, the marvelous healing factor would just fill him up for me again, but an unresponsive and weak bedmate was just as unappealing to me as an unconscious one.

That just left me with one last alternative as unlikely as it seemed but I was willing to try any idea at this point. My free hand sought to caress the base of his spine just where his tail merged into his flesh seamlessly. Alfred froze under the exploration, his body tense but starting to noticeably yield under my gentle touch. A slow grin graced my lips at my discovery, pushing my new advantage. My slender pale fingers sunk into the tail's long gold hairs as I stroked the accessory to Alfred's handsome physique. The werewolf shivered as I went from base to tip of his tail in slow even motions, his body relaxing finally. I released the grip on his hair to start stroking his ears, fondling them slowly. Alfred went practically limp in response, his head lolling to the side with his eyes closed in bliss as I worked both ends of his body in the oddest foreplay I had ever done before.

"Good boy.", I crooned softly at him, "Puppy deserves a treat.". Smart boy took my hint, quivering in response to it. Alfred presented himself to me, arching his lower back up slowly until his ass was up in the air. He parted his thighs, widening his hips apart for my easier access, blushing as he did so.

"Very nice.", I smirked, moving behind him but careful always to keep my hands on him. The werewolf could still react if I let myself be careless. This was a test for us both really. He would push every boundary, seek to break them to see how I would react and how far he could go. I didn't plan on giving him an inch.

I lubed up as quickly as I could one handed, aligning myself with his puckered hole. I slid in with a sharp gasp, snapping my hips as I did so to delve in deeper than I usually did. I barely allowed him enough time to adjust, making it marvelously painful for us both. Alfred fought me even now, clinching around me so tightly that it hurt. I grit my teeth as I leaned forward, my slim hands sliding down his sweat slick sides as I made soft soothing noises.

Alfred relented to me, sighing as his body relaxed under the strokes to his sides. He pushed backed against me after a moment, rocking in impatience. "Hurry up.", he growled, biting into the coverlet to tear it up with his sharp teeth, much to my annoyance. I have spent weeks embroidering it.

I stopped my petting to dig the points of my fingertips painfully into tanned skin. "You do not give me orders, pet.", I said calmly in my cruelty, as my nails drew blood. I brought crimson coated fingers up to my lips to suck on them with noisy licks, purely for his benefit. I refused to move in him until I was done with both hands, cleaning the digits ever so thoroughly to make him wait. He strained against me, trying to create his own push and pull by using my stationary body. I put an end to this with one cool hand on his back. "Stay.", I commanded, smacking his bare buttock with the flat of my other hand, the solid smack ringing sharply. Alfred jolted from it but ceased his other movements with a grumble.

"Yes, poor poppet. You're so abused. How could anyone deny such a cute puppy anything for so long?", I mocked, returning my hands to his sides to grip Alfred's hips tightly with them, his only warning to my next intentions.

I started to move then, though it was not just for his benefit. I was in desperate need myself. Alfred's body seared me with its body heat, though I wasn't sure if it was due to his lupine nature or his current state of stimulation. Vampires being the undead things we are do not carry body heat naturally in our own cool flesh, unless we were filled to the brim with our victim's blood. My own cup was quite full of Alfred's vintage. He was in me as much as I was in him, bonding us beyond just physical contact. His paranormal life essence coursed fiery paths through my cold body, making it burn with more than just mere echoes of life.

I took a breath, something I rarely did, and tasted the air heavy with the thick scents of musk and sex. I exhaled slowed feeling drunk of the intoxicating sensations all around and in me, my eyes half lidded in un-sated desire. I braced against Alfred, digging my fingers into the flesh of his sumptuously curved ass as I jack hammering into him, my strokes steady and powerful enough to shake the heavy four poster bed in a worrying manner. Alfred groaned in relief underneath me, arching his back to help accommodate my sudden burst of speed. His whimpering let me know that he was achingly close even without me having to touch him.

Reaching around him, I found his problem easily enough, the leaking member slick with precum and pulsing hot to my touch. I rippled my fingers over its sizable width as I tightened my grip, my chest pressing to his back in a perfect seal of skin to skin.

"Come.", I told him, giving his need one last squeeze. Alfred came howled, his bays echoing through the mansion as he covered my hand in sticky thick fluid. Tiny, tight muscles danced and seized all around my own throbbing organ.

I wasn't done with Alfred yet though. I ignored my own pleasure long enough to clamp down on this neck with my bloody kiss, filling Alfred with the poison that was uniquely my kind's own. It gives our victims euphoria, instant and intense ecstasy on the tip of a tooth. Apparently, it works just as well if not more on werewolves, my kiss making Alfred come again within seconds of his first. If not for my own grip upon Alfred keeping him up, the werewolf would have collapsed, shaking and weak from his overwhelming pleasure. He milking me dry as I road out my own orgasm wetly, his blood trailing from the corners of my mouth. I came harder than I had ever had before in centuries, his heat all around and in me. It left me gasping, gulping at deliciously tainted air as I finished, only pulling out after I had completely filled him with my essence. I finally slumped over Alfred's spent sweltering body, partly in shock of it, partially in sudden exhaustion.

I stroked his heaving sides, placing small biting kisses over the tops of his shoulders as I did so, just because I could. "You are marked now. That makes you mine.", I told him. The werewolf nodded back slightly in acknowledgement to this.

"I'm not calling you master.", Alfred growled out huffily, turning his head to glare at me over his shoulder. I languidly reached over to scratch a spot between his wolf ears. The harsh look dissolved instantly as his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head with pleasure.

"That's fine. Arthur is perfectly acceptable when we are alone, but I would prefer you to address me as Lord Kirkland when we are in public. Failing that, 'sir' will also suffice nicely.", I shrugged. I have never been one for the whole master bit anyway and what can I say, I was feeling generous at the moment. I was also feeling very confident about our new arrangement. My problem was solved in more ways than one in just one evening. Life, as it was, was definitely looking up.

"You got it, Artie.", the werewolf grinned cheekily.

Or not.

"Bad dog."


	2. Chapter 2

Being what I was, I could literally feel the night reclaim its territory from the day, star by star, as renewed life seeped back into my cool being, making my senses spring back into a state of full, crystal clear awareness.

I felt totally refreshed, especially since my slumber hadn't been interrupted of late by any pesky hunters looking to make a name for themselves with my remains.

I reveled for a moment of being in a soft bed instead of a tight coffin with all that open space around and above me….or should have been.

I reflected to myself that it was a good thing that I no longer needed to breathe because I truly doubted a mortal would have been able to survive the werewolf bodily lying on top of me. If they somehow managed it, the thick waft of Alfred's morning breath would have finished them off.

The monster of my ire was currently curled up on top of me in the sense of all big dogs who deviously think they are the size of Chihuahuas and thus occupy the same amount of space as one.

The American wolf's face was crammed into the crook of my neck, uncomfortably so, a large patch of dampness letting me know I was lying in a still growing pool of his loop warm drool. On top of it all, his morning wood was digging into me, trying to make love to my belly button. He was of course naked. I swear he couldn't keep clothes on if they were sewn to his skin.

Oh the simple joys of owning a pet….

"What have I told you about being on the bed?!", I snapped, shoving the beast off of me. The boy barely registered it though, choosing to curl up around a pillow to molest it. I growled inwardly for my intricate embroidery now being used so vilely and without a shred of regard to the delicate stitch work.

"And this is why I can't have nice things.", I muttered, beating the wolf over the head with a spare pillow. Alfred woke up enough to growl at me before passing completely out having successfully made the pillow his bitch. I pinched the bridge of my nose already seeing chores already piling up for the night it seemed. Laundry would be the priority on it…again.

I got up to brave myself against one of the solid oak posters as I kicked the werewolf fully off of the bed. He hit the floor in a heap of tangled limbs, changing fully into a wolf in his rude awakening. Alfred sat up to tilt his head woozily to the side in obvious canine confusion, whining pitifully at me. I pointed to the soiled pillow in response.

"Bad Dog!"

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Despite Alfred's naughty behavior, I believed in taking care of one's pet and made him breakfast anyway. The werewolf seemed less than grateful for it though. When he came down dressed for once at my insistence in jeans and a white t-shirt(though his ears and tail were out again). Alfred carefully approached the scones, porridge, and black pudding I had set out for him. He sniffed at them, his nose twitching delicately before drawing back with a deep growl.

"Artie…", Alfred began, his ears flat against his head.

"Arthur.", I corrected primly, taking a seat to blow at my tea. I couldn't drink it but I could still enjoy the aromas and heat from my most beloved of beverages.

"Whatever. How old did you say you were?", Alfred asked, poking at the porridge suspiciously. He jumped when it poked back.

"About two thousand give or take a century. I just lost count of some point after the calendar was changed several times. Mucked everything all up really.", I mused, "Why do you ask?" I watched as my wolf raised a slim golden eyebrow at me.

"Yeah that whole BC to AD thing must have been a real bitch for ya.", Alfred snorted, his tail wagging at his amusements.

"You do not wear sarcasm well, poppet. Please get to your point.", I chided, ignoring the jab with practiced indifference.

"I'm asking cause ya might be out of practice on the whole cooking thing.", Alfred stated rather decisively, his brows furrowing in intense concentration as he studied the scones for the dark secrets held within their blackened and still smoldering layers.

"Rubbish. My cooking is perfectly fine, thank you very much you obnoxious little sod. No one has ever complained about it before.", I sniffed, "You are just a picky eater." Never mind that there had been only a few random mortals who didn't quite take to my food but considering they were about to become dinner themselves it was an understandable situation. They had simply lost their appetite…..right?

"Wow. Just wow. I hope you ate whoever lied and told you that cause they were doing the world a disservice. This should be given last rites, be burned…..again….and put into the ground with something heavy over it before it curses us all.", Alfred told me as he circled the food like it was going to attack him, which was ridiculous. The porridge couldn't make it out of its bowl.

"Oi! That is good solid food that an empire was built upon.", I huffed angrily.

"Yeah, I get that, but what did they eat?", Alfred shot back, making a face as the porridge spat soggy oats at him.

"You just don't like to try new things.", I accused him, setting my cup down with a sharp click of porcelain.

"No….I just don't like dying a long and very painful death.", Alfred growled, bearing his canines at the food. The porridge had decided to eat the scones for Alfred. Upon further examination, it would appear that the black pudding had run off at some point in time during our row. I would have to hunt them down later or there would be problems.

"Ingrate. I just may decide to never cook for you again.", I grumped, even as I started to edge my chair away from the table, eyeing dark corners for the runaway sausages. The porridge was also turning a funny green color after cannibalizing the scones and apparently was starting to grow eyes and teeth. That did not bode well…..

"Don't threaten me with a good time.", Alfred said warily, the porridge waving at him now with a toothy grin.

"Sodding hell, that's not right.", I murmured, getting up to grab a pair of tongs I wouldn't mind sacrificing. I snagged the bowl off of the table, debating if I should put it in the incinerator or the bin.

"No shit, Sherlock. What was your first clue? The fact that it can wave or that its developing language skills?", Alfred grumbled. Incineration it was then. I almost felt bad for the poor little bugger.

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Since Alfred had not had his breakfast and needed to be walked anyway to burn off some of that endless energy he always seemed to have. We took a walk in the woods surrounding my vast estate deep in the New Forest of England. Combined with Francis's own considerable holdings, it was a great amount of privately owned forestry, whish is how we liked it.

One of the good things(and possibly the only good thing) about us being neighbors that we held control over our territories. Vampires are greedy, power hungry creatures with burning thirsts going far beyond hunger. We are always looking to expand our little empires. Not wanting to deal with the politics of the cities anymore, Francis and I opted to buy large tracts of land in rural Southern England, not exactly a vampire hotspot if you will.

The closest vampires to us was a coven of Russians and their Baltic servants. It consisted of a tall strange being named Ivan and his two sisters by blood and clan, Natalia and Katyusha. Their ranks were rounded out by a Latvian, a Lithuanian, and an Estonian that they had decided to turn as well. The Baltic trio barely ever spoke though so I knew very little to nothing about them other than that they trembled at any sudden movements or noises.

As two ancient vampires, Francis and I had more that enough power to fend them off but it didn't stop them from trying our patience occasionally. Eternity gets boring I suppose. The added bonus of Matthew and Alfred here now gave us a definite advantage over our enemies.

Though we have are differences and frankly can not stand one another, our long established blood truces and familiarities are ancient and have saved us both numerous times before in the past.

I sighed as Alfred ran ahead of me as a wolf again to pee on yet another tree. "Must you piss on everything?", I asked wearily. Our outing seemed to consist of Alfred's determination to urinate on every bit of growth we came across in this bloody forest. "I really don't know how you are managing it. You must have the bladder of a two year old girl.", I grumbled, watching as the werewolf shifted smoothly back into his mostly human form to give me a sore look.

"Hey, it's for your benefit as much as mine, Mr. Cranky pants.", Alfred told me, looking a bit miffed as he sniffed at the air.

"Pray tell then. Enlighten me, since I have not been able to take a piss since before Christ.", I yawned, leaning against a handy tree that was surprisingly still unmarked.

"Lot of info in pee.", Alfred told me simply, taking a moment to crouch down, sniffing at the base of a fern.

"How fascinating. I never realized. And here I thought it was so that you could make me stop every five minutes to watch you relieve yourself.", I said dryly. Alfred gave me another look of pained longsuffering as if he were conversing with a simpleton or small child.

"Shows how much you know, don't it. Before me and Mattie…", Alfred started.

"Matthew and I, poppet.", I corrected out of habit, love for the language, and my delicate senses.

"Jeez, rude much?", Alfred rolled his eyes, "Before Matthew and I came here you had a lot of lesser shifters crawling all over this place." I just barely managed to keep my jaw from dropping in shock to stare back at him wide eyed. "Smells like crows mostly, nosy fucking bastards.", he further informed me, "Marking let's us set up borders and keeps others away. You can also send or set up messages."

"Really…messages.", I said in somewhat disbelief.

"Yeah! A good whiff of a fresh mark can tell me if the one who left it is sick, angry, happy, fertile, scared, challenging me, all kinds of stuff. It can also tell me the direction they were coming and going in.", Alfred continued.

"So…a lot of information in piss.", I finished thoughtfully.

"Yup.", Alfred laughed, scenting the air again, "If you were wondering, Mattie has already been here, he's in a good mood cause Francis cooked for him, and he got laid. He's real happy about that."

"Too much information.", I winced, "Were you not hungry?"

"On it!", Alfred yipped as he did a leap, landing on all for paws in wolf form to run off. I scented the deer he was tracking easily enough, pulling a face at its rank odor. The animal's dull blood was of no interest to me but it would suffice nicely for Alfred's more mundane tastes. I took to the tress, moving like a soot shade through them until I happened upon a clearing where the stag in question stood tentative still as any statue. It knew it was being hunted. The animal just didn't know from where or by what. It never got to make a decision on these pressing topics though, when the werewolf hit it like a freight train. One second, deer. Next, poof, road kill.

I grimaced at the chunks of meat that had just been a rather graceful animal. I had never seen a werewolf hunt before now. Needless to say it was quite messy. I dropped down off of my perch to take a seat on a nearby rock. Noticing my approach, Alfred growled throatily at me, snapping down large pieces of deer, bones and all.

"Oh do be quiet. I do not want any of your foul meal.", I sniffed at him unimpressed. I could have sworn Alfred was laughing at me, the way his tail wagged back in response.

"Don't even think about taking one step into the house before you have had a bath.", I told him after a few moments of watching him devour his kill, wearing most of it. Alfred looked up at me with large puppy dog eyes, whining pathetically at me. The effect was ruined by all the gore still dripping off of his muzzle.

"Don't even try to sweet talk your way out of this, sad sack. It's to the river with you, if you are that lucky.", I stated firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. My mind was obviously made up in the matter. The bits of….stuff…falling off of him was not helping his case much either.

"Only if you go in with me", Alfred said suddenly, his voice roughened and dark in tone. I looked back at my wolf to see that he was mostly human again, dressed only in fragments of meat and splashes of bright red, crimson still dripping from his curved lips and clawed fingertips. Trickling streams of coppery fluid made rivulets down his toned stance, clinging to its form, accentuating curves and bulges of muscles. It didn't take me long to realize how hard and full he was from his hunt. I didn't let that faze me though, keeping my gaze upon him cool and intent.

"If you don't behave, I will insist upon a collar for you and possibly even a leash.", I said firmly. If he pushed me, I would push right back. I needed to stay on top of this situation lest lose control of it entirely.

"I bet you would look real pretty just dressed in red.", Alfred said in a gravelly tone, drawing closer to me as he licked his hands clean with a rather lewd tongue. He stalked me in my own forest but I refused to give him an inch.

"You will have to earn that privilege, poppet.", I glared up at him as I mentally ran through my options. I hadn't fed yet so there were not as numerous as I would have liked without putting some strain on my being. You never run from predators though. It marks you as prey.

I never came to a decision on the matter, one of Alfred's ears suddenly swiveling back. The werewolf dropped down in his full massive form less that a second later, baring his teeth to the forest. He growled menace and murder to the night.

I threw my senses forward like a fine spider silk net of energy looking through the night eyes of the wood's inhabitants of what lurked in my forest.

"Good Evening. Ill met by moonlight and all that rot.", I said in steely tones, "You are a little far from home I think.". The tall Russian let his being slip from the shadows that hid him so well.

Ivan was an old vampire from the icy steppes of the Kremlin. He was a member of the skin clan, a race of vampires who prides themselves on manipulating their own flesh and the meat of their victims. Ivan's hands were evidence enough of this practice, the digits overly long and ending in sharp points. His long heavy coat and ever-present scarf hid the other grotesque things he had done to his body. It was rumored among our own kind that the reason he never took his long scarf off was because his head would fall off. I did not sense his sisters thankfully. Natalia and Katyusha were skin clan as well. Natalia excelled at sculpting blades from the flesh of her body with an ease that was truly frightening. The other sister, Katyusha, was nowhere as talented as her kin though. As far as anyone could tell, the only significant body modification she had made to herself was to her breasts. The overly large globes actually made noises with her every approach and departure. It would be amusing if it were not so sad.

It didn't help my concentration much that Alfred was running back and forth in front of me, barking his fool head off at the Russian.

"Alfred! Heel!", I snapped, pointing to a spot at my feet. The defiant little shite of a werewolf just barked louder, making a right spectacle of himself.

"You're vittle dog doesn't seem to mind you vell, da?", Ivan smiled, the expression never touching his glassy eyes. Despite the danger, I was actually grateful for the lack of blood at the moment. I would have blushed in embarrassment otherwise.

"Alfred…", I growled, making a promise to myself to beat every inch of hide off of that cheeky werewolf for his insolence.

"So noisy. I vill show you how to train a dog.", Ivan grinned, reaching into his coat. I knew what he was going for, the Russian's favored weapon of choice a blood stained iron pipe. I gritted my teeth as my own hands went for my daggers, part of me wishing it were my cutlass. I hadn't wanted to fight the huge vampire but so be it. Fat lot of good Alfred was being in all this, practically prancing about like a true git now when I needed him most for backup…which didn't fit with his self proclaimed heroic character at all…

It struck me as odd for only a moment, the situation resolving itself in the form of another wolf, this one though as silent as the grave.

Ivan didn't have time to react at all as Matthew landed solidly on his back, digging his curved claws into him. The vampire landed hard facedown into the earth with Matthew's jaws poised at his throat. At his brother's appearance, Alfred fell eerily silent as he stalked forward with a smug look on his canine face.

"It is, how you would say, brilliant, yes?", Francis said casually as he walked out of the woods. I nodded trying to keep the irritation off of my face, having not been a part of their little ruse. Alfred drew their quarry's attention with his antics, leaving his more silent twin to strike the killing blow. Simple yet effective.

"Now 'comrade' what were you saying about my dog because it would seem that it is you being taught a lesson.", I gloated, recovering nicely from my mental lapse.

"If you are going to kill me, do so and be done with it. Do not vaste my time.", Ivan shrugged the best he could with a werewolf on his back.

"And start a clan war? No, I think not.", I snorted, "We are not some naïve fledglings you can manipulate into a useless fight.".

"Angleterre is right,", Francis sneered, "I am thinking if we find you in our territory again we will spend our next encounter blood bonding you to us and make you are slave."

"Then I will become one vith you.", Ivan answered in a dreamy sort of voice that made me shudder. Usually the threat of becoming someone's servant had a much different reaction.

Mathieu, come away from him, mon amour.", Francis motioned, the fair wolf stepping off of the Russian on light feet. The Canadian was far more graceful than Alfred with a longer coat in paler shades of gold than my honey colored wolf. His eyes shone like twilight stars, the soft purple of them made more striking by the white markings that adorned his lupine visage.

Ivan got up slowly which was prudent considering that there were two wolves ready to tear him limb from limb. Even one such as him would stand little chance against them.

"Now fuck off before we sick the dogs on you.", I told him with a smirk. Ivan may be crazy but he was not stupid. He took his loss for this evening, slipping back into shadow. Francis and I tracked him until he left the borders of our little kingdom.

"Well that was amusing, no?", Francis yawned, twirling a strand of his long hair idly.

"You two do realize we are not your dogs.", Matthew said softly. I turned my attention to the quiet brother who apparently had the same masterful abilities for forms that his brother did. From what I understood about the wolves, shifting between wolf and man was supposedly to be a painful and sometimes lengthy process. The fact that Matthew and Alfred could do it so quickly and smoothly at will was a denotation of their true power. Curious, I filed it away in my mind to bring up later with Alfred when we were alone.

"Yes, yes mon amour, but how can you blame us? You make such a cute puppy!", Francis laughed, pressing kisses to Matthew's reddening cheeks and forehead.

"And what about you?", I huffed, directing the question at the American who was sniffing about were the Russian had lain, "Any complaints?".

"I don't give a shit. If you are always that good in bed, you can call me whatever the fuck you want.", Alfred shrugged dismissively. For the second time that evening, I was immensely grateful that I had not fed yet. My cheeks still grew a smidge pink from the intensity of my blush though. Francis's unchecked laughter didn't hemp matters either.

"Well it is good to know that you have finally improved. It only took you what? 2000 years, oui?", Francis snickered, practically doubling over in his mirth.

"Sweetling, don't you have some deer left to shove into your fat mouth.", I managed out from between thinly pressed lips. Oblivious as always to his surroundings and the dark taint in the atmosphere, Alfred perked up at the mention of his long forgotten meal.

"Oh is that what that was?", Matthew said mischievously, a mean twinkle in his lavender eyes. Alfred didn't catch it in time though, Matthew darting forward with a leap into wolf, his jaws snapping up the remains of the dearly departed deer.

"Hey! That's mine, damn it!", Alfred wailed, running after his twin, chasing him noisily through the woods. Honestly, it sounded like two cars mucking about in the underbrush, marked by yips and whines of the loser.

"Awwwww. So cute.", Francis cooed.

"Yes, as cute as two monsters can be playing keep away with a corpse.", I grunted unimpressed. I turned to leave, "Come on, you git. We are going home."

I was less than pleased when two bloody werewolves barreled into me.

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Despite my earlier threats of making him bathe in the river, I drew a steamy hot bath for my wolf, scenting it with my own expensive bath beads.

"Roses?", Alfred scrunched up his nose at the floral aromas.

"I happen to like roses and that pure of fragrance is very hard to come by.", I retorted, adding a few more to the bath just to spite him.

"How hard is it to mug some poor old lady for her perfume?", Alfred drawled out, flicking some of the water at me.

"Belt up and get in, mutt.", I snapped, "You are not going to run around the house like that. Bad enough you refuse to wear clothing."

"Jeez, again with the damn clothing. You do realize I'll just rip them to shit whenever I change. It's just easier this way.", Alfred rolled his eyes at me.

"Understandable, but do try to at least wear them when we are inside. I don't want you running around the house furry anyway. You will get hair on the furniture.", I told him firmly, "Now quit wasting my time and get in."

"Oh hell no. I'm not going to smell like some damn poodle.", Alfred shook his head fervently, crossing his arms in a stubborn huff. I rubbed my temples gingerly, not wanting to have to resort to my next course of actions. He really left me no other choice though, the werewolf was simply covered in blood, dirt, and whatever else he had managed to roll in.

Scooping him up with my magic, I levitated Alfred high overhead. From his distraught yips I could tell he didn't really care for it.

"What the hell, man?! Put me down!", Alfred yelped, struggling against me.

"But of course, pet. Your wish is my command.", I smirked, dropping his bare ass into the tub. Alfred's eyes grew wide as his request was granted with a splash. He was further displeased to find that he was water chained to the tub. Control over the elements was another one of my many talents in magic. The liquid cords glittered prettily against his tanned skin as he struggled against them, glaring at me.

"Hush now, and be a good little dog. Let me clean you off.", I said overly sweet, "Or I'll drown your arse."

Alfred grumbled but grew still as he let me bathe him. He did occasionally shift to test him bonds though. "I hate bathes.", he whined, after a long grueling moment of scrubbing for him.

"So learn to hunt in a more tidy manner. Making your food explode all over you is not only inelegant but is horribly messy as well.", I lectured sternly. Alfred pouted back at me, chewing on his bottom lip in obvious thought. I took the quiet moment to drain the tub, filling it up again with new clean water. Alfred shivered as warmth was leeched from around him to slowly return.

"Vampires are messy too. It's not like you were Ms. Manners when you were chomping down on me.", Alfred countered, as the tub filled with lovely steaming water.

"True, but I was trying to make a point at the time.", I ranted, "I happen to very neat. Most of my 'guests' do not ever know that they have ever been bitten. Vampires pride themselves on their skills. Francis himself boasts that he can openly feed with multiple partners at once without their knowledge."

"Bullshit!", Alfred laughed, calling it. Normally I would agree with that assessment with anything involving Francis, but even I have to concede to the frog's considerable skill. It was disgustingly superior to most of our kind….not that I would ever admit it aloud or on pain of death. Instead, I raised a bushy eyebrow at the grinning wolf, turning off the tap with an irate gesture.

"Give me your hand.", I commanded, fed up with the uppity puppy's attitude. That and I was actually feeling hungry. Two birds, one stone, and all that, I guess.

"Why?", he asked, flicking water at me, the sodding little irritant.

"I have a burning urge to play paddy cake with you, git.", I said dryly, "Do you want me to show you or not?". Alfred shrugged, offering up a moist limb to me. I took his hand gently in-between my own cool ones, bringing it to my lips. A subtle glance to Alfred told me that he was watching my every movement. I pressed my lips to the back of his hand, letting them linger over tanned skin to trail downward feather light across it. I caressed his fingers softly with my parted mouth until I could press a kiss to each of their roughened tips ever so lightly with a flick of tongue to taste them. I drew their callused lengths downward, letting his warm touch graze along my face as I nestled my lips to the heated meat of his palm pressing devotions into it, my tongue swirling along the lines of his life, his fortune told for this evening at least.

I could hear…feel his heart, his pulse point so near to me like a white hot beacon as I grazed his wrists with my tongue and lengthening teeth. His breathe hitched as cool enamel broke the skin smoothly, his red life seeping out from the mere love bite I had given him, no more than a trickle really. I pushing my tongue against this small wound sealing it. Vampire saliva will heal any wound we make and then some. Coupled with his supernatural healing factor meant I had to be quick and very persistent. My desire called for far more now than this little demonstration though, my appetite wetted.

"That was…", Alfred murmured, looking a little dazed. A glance into the water bespoke of what he really thought about it a touch more vividly than his lack of words. My hand broke the surface of the hot water to seek out his length, trailing a finger down it in exploration, Alfred groaning throatily just from the light contact. My other hand moved up over and along his arm until it came to rest, caressing the base of his neck with my fingers, toying with strands of his honey hair. It was so satiny to my playful touch.

I held him still as I leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips, a chaste meeting of our flesh. He parted his own, willingly wanting more of me, the greedy monster he was. I denied him it to continue my attentions elsewhere along his strong jaw, journeying down the length of it until I could settle in the crook of his neck. I swirled my tongue over a delicious patch of skin there, right over his throbbing veins, his blood calling to me enticingly strong. I tightened my grip on his phallus, running my fingers up and down its increasing lengths, his meat wide and thick in my hand. I was appreciative of it but until our relationship of sorts settled, I would only touch and taste, never ride. Our balance of power was still too precarious for my liking to lose myself, to give him an inch or let him put several into me.

Alfred's breath quickened at my administrations, my agile fingers curling downward to touch his sack, so high and tight it was like exotic ripe fruit just begging to be bitten. I briefly considered cutting to the chase altogether but his pulse was too intoxicating to ignore, so without further ado or warning, I bit into him. Alfred groaned from the penetration as his system was flooded with my essence.

A vampire's kiss is one of our greatest weapons and defenses. It is also one of the few things that are true about our kind in those silly legends. Francis's clan, the Sensualists, in particular prided itself for being able to make their prey come from a kiss alone. I personally felt it lack technique though, lazy bastards.

I swallowed him down in greedy gulps until he burned into my wasted cells, his blood like no other. It was life condensed in bursting, heavy flavor. T'was finer than any wine or food I cared to remember from life.

I made myself stop as agonizing as it was for me, so I could focus on Alfred bucking into my hand rather insistently now. I rolled my fingers in a massaging grip while squeezing, the action making the werewolf come in jerky ragged breathes. He flopped back fully sated against the tub watching me with hazy half lidded eyes and a goofy grin as I started to undress hastily, stripping down with brisk efficiency. After a thought, I selected some bath beads to take with me.

Alfred shifted back in surprise the best he could still water chained to the tub as I joined him in the deliciously searing water, slipping into the tub without so much as making a ripple.

"What are you?…", Alfred started to ask, the rest of his question cut off my own submersion. Being undead had its advantages after all. Not having to breathe was just one of the many benefits of it. The heated water felt wonderful all around me and enticing as it was to lay beneath the surface and let it cool all around me, I had other more carnal desires in mind at the moment.

I parted Alfred's legs wide easily enough to rest in-between them. With a silent command, I water chained them in place, giving me full uninhibited access. Alfred started from this especially when I did the same to his arms, securing them firmly to the sides of the tub. I ignored his futile struggles to start caressing the silky inner part of his thighs, lighter in tone from the rest of his golden brown skin. I found what I was looking for, the most delicious of the body's aqueducts, the femoral artery.

I pressed my cheek to it, its own unique heat practically searing my cold skin. I sucked at the flesh to redden it as Alfred trembled beneath him. Not idle, my hand found his softened member to grip it tightly. My other hand found his entrance, pressing against it lightly to nudge at its door with a bath bead. I slipped it into him as Alfred tried to shift away from my prodding but I wasn't even close to being done with him yet.

Just as he started to strain against his restraints, I broke his silken skin, tasting his life once again. I formed a perfect seal over the slight wound with my lips, letting the richness of his blood pouring down my throat as I filled him back with my own brand of poison, endorphins and magic surging into his system to make it oversensitive and ever so willing to my every touch.

His cock found new life in my hand as I pressed a finger forward, breaking the bath bead within him to fill his passage with rose scented oil as I spread him with my digits. I nuzzled his thigh as I sucked at it until he shivered from my gentle lapping. Alfred had accepted three fingers in by the time he came again, my long fingers fucking his frazzled nerves to shades of intense white. He clutched around the invading digits tightly in spasms as he rode out his orgasm on me. Alfred slumped back, his bonds more that anything keeping him from slipping beneath the water's surface to join me.

I rose slowly up until the crown of my head surfaced so that my eyes could peek up at him. Alfred looked back at me in a daze, panting hard, his mouth slack. His throat still carried my bruised mark, a vampires bite lasting a little bit longer upon his tanned skin than other mundane wounds. He looked so absolutely fuckable and utterly delicious to me. An idea called to me though, staying my wanted course of action. Grabbing the rest of the bath beads, I ducked back down under again.

Using my agile fingers to spread him, I pressed a bath bead into him, watching as it disappear so smoothly into his yielding flesh. It was joined by another and another, each pearly red globe pushed into him until my fingers could not even fit in him anymore, he was filled so full to the brim. I rose out of the water to find him grasping wordlessly, his tongue failing him as he writhed against his bonds. I smirked evilly at him, drawing his legs together to bind them so that the pressure grew on his passage. I tilted his hips this way and that slowly, watching his face twist as I mercilessly pleasured him, his body too spent to properly respond but hypersensitive, the beads rolling all together inside of him and against his nerves so deliciously tight.

"I can feel them popping…..so…..good…", Alfred gasped, his eyes going wide from the sensation within him, the gelatin globes breaking to leak golden oil from his entrance. I nearly choked on the force of my own lust upon noticing it.

I rose up fully to lean over him with a predatory growl, my teeth bared, my fangs long and ever so sharp. My own need was so full and hard with his blood, it was painful as I released his legs again splaying limply out to either side of me. Smart boy, he bared the line of his neck toward me in total submission. I accepted, sinking my fangs into Alfred as I aligned myself with his full hole. He felt as my tip pressed up against his most tender spot, the werewolf shaking his head as he babbled nonsense at me. I chose to ignore his input on the matter. With a smooth roll of my hips, I sunk into his lower regions, sliding into him as my hard shaft broke all the beads within him, the heated oil gushing out forcefully to hit me and his quivering thighs. He arched into the penetrations, gasping. I drew back with my fangs still dripping, one hunger sated at least for now. I admired my marks upon his throat as I languidly thrust into his accepting body, setting a steady rhythm.

Greedy and impatient monster that I was, I put his legs up over my shoulders, going deeper, his body so plush and open to me. With a tilt of my hips to connect dead on with his prostate, I forced him completely full again, the werewolf trembling and moaning from it as I started to harshly stroke him into completion for a third time, pounding into him.

Alfred was so lush, so hot, his body practically melting all around me, the oil in his passage turned liquid heat by friction and his body. He come with a stifled whimper, his body enveloping me further into it, pulling at me.

The force of my orgasm made me throw my head back in unbridled ecstasy as I was milked dry by Alfred's urgent little spasms. I shuddered, leaning against Alfred for support as I rode out my passion, mouthing his name into his stained neck. I licked away stray drops of blood from his skin, all slick and salty as I savored the overwhelming sensations that rocked my body.

With a gesture, I released Alfred fully from his restraints, catching the wolf as he sunk boneless into the rapidly cooling water. He was near unconscious as I switched positions with him, pulling the werewolf into my lap to stroke at his ears, the expression on my face more than a little smug.

It seemed I had finally succeeded in wearing him out.


	3. Chapter 3

That damn raccoon was back!

I jumped up on the window ledge with my paw on the glass(even though I was totally not supposed to). I debated with myself on whether or not to end that lil bastard's life. Taunt the hero will ya?!

But….the masked bandit was outside mocking me through the safety of the glass. I growled at it, but decided not to go after it. Arthur didn't like me leaving the house without him cause he's all nervous like that. He thinks I'll eat the neighbor's cat or take a dump on their lawn or something stupid like that, the nervous nelly he is. I mean seriously though, I haven't done that sort of thing since I was a pup. That and I'm kinda supposed to be guarding him.

Now that I think about it, some dudes had shown up but I told them politely to leave. They seemed kinda put off by it but I've always said a smile and a positive attitude goes a long way.

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A hunter's bad day…  
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Today was his day! Abraham Van Helsing V, the last of his line of legendary monster hunters, was on his way to claim his very first vampire. It was rumored that one lived deep in the forest, the mansion famed for its death traps and odd beasties, none of which bothered him of course. Van Helsing had trained for years, sharpening his senses and perfecting his unique skills. He would not lose to some mere vampire.

The house loomed before him, dark and foreboding, the very picture of a den of evil complete with its own hell gate. Van Helsing thought the ravens cackling about mid-day were an especially nice touch. He approached the structure cautiously, scouting out the area through the oddly pleasant and rather cheerful garden full of statues of unicorns and fairies. It was enough to make the hunter pause.

…But he was not to be tricked by such a cutesy facade! It was a garden of evil! Evil! Even with it's delightful frog fountain, merrily spitting out water for the bathing birds in its lily pad shaped basin, sweet little sparrows and robins chirping happily in the spray.

EVIL!

Except the geraniums were actually quite nice and he had never seen such healthy roses before. If the resident were not a foul fiend from the depths of hell, Van Helsing would have been interested in getting some helpful advice about the flora.

EVIL!

Oh, this was a devious bastard worthy of the dark ranks, tantalizing strangers with his exceptional gardening. Van Helsing would gladly send him to hell for this most devious of pitfalls…but not before he had a little lookieloo around.

After taking a quick tour of the gardens(checking for traps of course and not taking gardening notes), Van Helsing had almost managed to pick the lock when it was flung open. He hastily executed a rather impressive series of back flips, simultaneously drawing his crossbow totally prepared to fire at his assailant, no doubt a servant of evil.

"Hi! Whatcha doin'?" was asking happily in a tone marked with annoying perkiness and an obvious zest for life.

Van Helsing blinked at the cheerful tone and looked up, focusing on…

….

….

….and quickly looked down again, sputtering. "A-and a good day to you as well, sir.", Van Helsing stammered out, blushing despite himself.

"Are ya sellin' something?", the sunny and quite naked blonde asked curiously with a grin, seemingly not bothered by the fact his rather impressive package was being exposed to the elements and the wandering eyes of strange men armed with crossbows.

"Ummmm…no.", Van Helsing warily looked up at the sky, studying some passing clouds ever so carefully, "This may seem like an odd question, my good sir…..but is there a fetid beast from the netherworld residing here and plotting against the forces of good?"

The nudist tilted his head to the side, obviously confused, "Huh? Fetid? What does that mean? Is that like feta?", the exhibitionist got excited in his random questioning, "Is a cheese monster around here? Oh crap! I hate those things! They aren't as tasty as they look and you can never get that smell out of anything. Why can't there be bacon monsters!? That would be awesome!"

"What!? Cheese monster?", Van Helsing mentally choked, trying to envision such a creature before determinably getting back to the important matter at hand, "Is there perhaps another mansion close to here with a member of the undead persuasion lying in wait within its residence?"

The blonde quit his rambling to shrug, "Oh, you're looking for Francis? Why didn't ya just say so? Dude lives in the mansion right down the road. Can't miss it."

"I thank you, kind sir! I must take my leave of you then! I must go forth and vanquish evil!", Van Helsing said quickly, backing up as the man started to scratch his ball sack rather enthusiastically and with great focus.

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"Man, I hope that he didn't try that B+E bull shit with Mattie. He'd just eat 'em. Guess I should have warned him about that.", Alfred mused to himself, licking the glass as the fat bastard of a raccoon waddled away. Dudes always seemed kinda put off by the sudden appearance of bare man junk for some reason. Iggy would throw an absolute shit fit if he knew I was answering the door naked being the lil ole fusspot he was but oh well.

Speaking of the devil, I jumped down from the window and padded through the long halls to Arthur's bedroom, easily nosing the door open. Arthur's bedroom was large and airy, the only furniture in it was a massive four poster bed made of real Southern Chestnut(which meant that bitch weighed a ton and was fire resistant), a matching wardrobe, and an old coffin banished to corner. Apparently Arthur preferred to sleep in beds but avid hunters made it so that the coffin had been a necessity before I moved in. The lack of other furniture was also due to the hunters. Arthur liked his antiques but your less than prepared/equipped hunter tended to make weapons or kindling out of them. Needless to say, the poor bastard who even dared to breath wrong on his Georgian chairs(much less make them into stakes or torches) suffered a fate worse than death, hence the heavy ass furnishings(you ever try to make a stake out of a solid, 6oo pound piece of furniture?…..that's right, it ain't happening).

I propped my head up on the bed and looked at Arthur, my vampire. Not gonna lie. He's kinda creepy.

Werewolves don't really like vampires much but not cause we are at war or some twatlight BS like that. We just don't like them cause they don't smell like anything. When one of your major senses is Smell(with a big ole capital S), you live in a world of tangible, colorful odors that have solid forms and practically sing to the olfactory senses. Vampires for the most part don't give off a scent. They are not alive so they don't piss, sweat, or excrete anything. They don't eat food or drink with the exception of blood. They are not dead, so they don't rot. At the most, the vamps smell like their homes and surroundings, which is not very helpful to us. That and maybe the blood of some poor bastard if they have just eaten somebody recently.

Arthur smells faintly of roses from his icky bath water and his garden, dusty old books from the ancient library he practically lives in, and the black tea he always insists on making but can't ever drink.

I wagged my tail at that thought, amused by his habits. My little vamp was a quirky creature….and perverted. I grinned wide, showing a lot of sharp teeth at that as I snuffled my nose forward across the cool sheets. I crawled carefully onto the bed, the mattress dipping low under my massive weight.

Another creep thing-Vamps are basically lifeless when they are out of it. They don't look like corpses though, at least not to me. More like…..dolls, all cold to the touch and not breathing, but still very pliable.

Running my nose over the lines of his chilly pale form, I wondered what it would feel like to fuck him like this, immobile and unaware. Well…not totally unaware. Arthur is older than dirt so if he feels threatened he'll wake up before the sun rises and be a real prick about it too. Dude likes his full seven hours. He's used to me now though so he doesn't even register it when I climb on top of him to cover his slim body with my own furry one.

If I couldn't mark him the way I wanted to, I can make him smell like me at least with my musk. I rubbed my soft face against his own, his state of coolness even felt through my own thick golden pelt. He's so damn pretty like this though, my vampire.

In life, he must have been merely handsome. In frozen undeath, he was breathtakingly gorgeous. Naturally pale skin was made into flawless alabaster porcelain and messy blonde hair was turned into permanently bed tossed spun gold. He was a slim being, cut and defined with lithe muscles of a dancer or a fencer. I wondered what he had been when he was alive. Odd as it sounds, I liked his hands the best. The fingers of them were so long and thin, almost bony, his wrist slender and elegantly formed. They had an odd grace to them, especially when they were wrapped around my cock. I liked them best there and doing other things to my body.

I wagged my tail in memory of our last escapade, resisting the urge to nudge at Arthur. I had to be patient and wait for him to wake up or else live with no nookie this evening. It was so boring though, seriously.

I amused myself by snuffling my sensitive nose through his messy locks(not like it would make any difference there) picking up the scents unique only to him. Sweet and spicy and oh so fuckable. I licked his small shell-like ears just for the hell of it(and because I could), willing myself not to get too worked up. I settled my large head in the crook of my vampire's slim neck, breathing him in. I stayed like that until the sun started to go down, dozing off from time to time. As I felt the sun sink downward and the moon rise to take its place, I tried not to let my excitement get the better of me as I morphed back to a more human shape, my fur melting back into my skin easily.

Changing forms can be taxing for my kind. Mattie and me are the exceptions to this, something about us being twins which another rarity among our species. Most pregnancies don't last out of the first trimester cause of our shifting nature and most babies don't make it to childhood much less adulthood due to general violence, jealous pack mates, and other things that go bump in the night.

I made a face as the chill of Arthur's bare skin came into contact with my own. That was my fault though. I had stripped him as soon as he was out for the day. I put up with it, my gaze intent on Arthur's face to watch it come back to life.

And just like that, Arthur's eyes were open and fully aware.

Last creep factor about vamps-they like have an on and off switch or something. No in-between time for them, no muffled state of awareness, no zombie like drowsiness. Just poppin' fresh as soon as the sun hits the sack.

I live for this moment now. Fuck me, his eyes are gorgeous. Green isn't even my favorite color…until recently, but I had never seen it like this before. I can't explain it, the way his eyes shift in shades or how the light seems to bend through them bringing out a sparkle and glow that is surreal even to me. Nothing compared to them. Gems, plants, and various types of stone can't be used to describe them. They don't even begin to compare. Maybe green stars….

"What are you doing on top of me again?!", Arthur hissed, glaring acid up at me.

"Good mornin' ta ya to sunshine.", I grinned back, kissing the tip of his nose. I love to piss him off. It makes his eyes glitter like mad, chaos emeralds.

"Hardly.", Arthur grunted, rolling his eyes as he tried to sit up which was admittedly hard with me on top of him, "Why in the bloody hell am I naked!?". He started to get up again only have me push him back onto the bed.

"So I can do this!", I said leaning forward quickly to end the short distance between us. I bit my tongue, hard, before forcing it past his thin lips. Though he struggled at first, the vamp relaxed immediately when the taste of new pennies filled his mouth, his own tongue working mine as he fed greedily. His lengthening fangs snagged my bottom lip to shred it, drawing more of my essence down his dry throat. I winced from the sudden wound, but that's what ya get for kissing a bloodsucker, I guess. While he was preoccupied with feeding on me, I reached down between our bodies to touch myself.

Holy shit, I was already so hard it hurt. From the very get go, Arthur has turned me on like no other has before. It only took me a few hard strokes from rosy palm and her five sisters to cover his pale taunt stomach with strands of pearly white. I pulled back grinning at him, my blood staining his soft lips in shades of ruby as I rubbed my essence into his skin. Arthur glared back at me, obviously not pleased by it but he didn't look like he's going to murder me either.

"Put that annoying mouth of yours to better use.", Arthur growled, bumping my hips with his own. His need was trapped between us, slick precum already striping my lower stomach.

Leaning back and sliding down the length of his body, I continued to rub my seed into him, marking him even as I swallow him whole all in one go, his tip scraping the back of my throat. I lavished its length with my wide tongue, sucking as I bobbed on it, my lips forming a perfect seal from base to tip. I left off scoring his skin to start fondling him further, running my hands along his silken thighs, pale as the moon's façade. They were so white, they made my hands look dark against their glow as my fingertips explored the junctions of skin where the inner thighs turned darker in tone, silkier in texture, and more sensitive to any wandering random touch. Moving upward to caress him, my attention lingered on his sack, a hidden velvet purse for my amusement as I rolled its precious contents on the calloused pads of my fingers. Arthur responded by balling large amounts of sheets in his fists, a low noise escaping his parted lips. I finally left off to search for new spots to make him squirm as I dug blunt fingers into the coarse golden curls that glittered off of his snow skin. I pulled at them gently, making him moan and buck up further into my throat, nearly choking me. He started to move erratically, signaling that he was close as Arthur chanted my name like some sort of weird prayer mixed in with a weird language that rolled off of his tongue naturally.

Moving my hands to his narrow hips, I pressed him into the bed, forcing my vamp to be still as he arched and struggled against me, his beautiful fingers releasing the sheets to thread through my hair, clutching at it. I focused solely on his rosy tip, running my tongue over his weeping slit, teasing the head relentlessly. Arthur was trying to form words again but failing miserably at it, the noises pouring from his slack lips wonderfully perfect to my ears never the less. When my teeth scraped down his sides, he met his end in over stimulation. Crying out my name almost cohesively, Arthur erupted in my mouth, coated it with his essence. I almost gagged on it when I tasted blood, my own blood.

It made sense though…It was the only fluid in his body and I've been Arthur's sole meal ticket ever since I moved in. Still icky as hell though, but I've eaten worse. That and Arthur would have happily torn my head off if I stained his precious embroidered cushions again.

I licked his softening member clean before climbing up his body to curl around it. Honestly I could have gone for another round, but Arthur looked so sweetly content, I wasn't about to ruin it. His clover eyes were half slitted with pleasure watching me settle in beside him, his delicate face soft with satisfaction though a small smirk was starting to play on the edges of his thin lips to ruin the whole tranquil effect.

I kept my own off of my face, still smelling my spunk on his belly, permeating into it….at least until he took a thorough bath. Arthur was fine for now though, just lying there petting me. His thin fingers toyed with my ears in a way that made my toes curl with pleasure and made my legs go weak.

"Alfred…", Arthur said softly, "You have to be on your best behavior tonight."

"Keep petting my ears like that and I'll roll over, play dead, fetch your damn slippers, whatever you want.", I sighed happily, leaning into his touch. To my immediate disappoint, he stopped. I whined, pouting at him.

"Alfred! I am being serious!", Arthur snapped, giving me a glare.

"So am I!", I whimpered, "Pppppppeeeettttsssss.". Arthur rolled his eyes at me but resumed. I wagged my tail in happy response, curling up even closer to my vamp. Having already fed on me, it was comfortable cause he gave off some faint body heat.

"We are meeting some members of the Shadow clan tonight with Francis and your brother. You need to be on guard yet understated if you can managed that but in a sense you also have to be diplomatic as well if some situation should arise.".

"So basically ya want a 'seen but not heard' deal.", I yawned. Arthur gave me a surprised look as if he hadn't expected my grasp of the situation. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Eeeeesh Iggy. Despite what you think, stupid werewolves don't live too long.", I said, giving him an annoyed look back, "Even your smallest packs have rigid hierarchies. Tribes as a whole are fucking brutal.". Arthur absorbed this, seeming to consider it. One of the things I love about him was watching the vamp process information. It was almost like you could actually see him mentally cataloguing all the information for future retrieval and reference.

"Hmmmm…Is that why you and your brother are not with a pack or tribe currently?", Arthur asked. I barely managed not to wince in time. I had been hoping to avoid this question. Time to roll out the ole charm. I gave him my widest grin, leaning in for a no holds bar kiss. I devoured his lips, claiming them with my own until he was groaning beneath me. He only stopped me when I started to straddle his hips.

"We do not have time for anymore of that, poppet.", Arthur admonished though his tone was gentle even as he pushed me away to slip off of the bed. He gave me a long look, one said that the matter was not closed. I sighed internally watching as he obviously made a mental note and put a pin in it.

Thankfully, Arthur seemed content to let the matter drop for now as he started to set out clothing for the both of us. I groaned loudly when I saw the suit he laid out for me, a glare going along with it as I got a swat between my ear for my troubles.

Sigh. The night had started off so nice and everything…..

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The meeting was set up at Francis's mansion, Arthur not really one for company. That and he tended to forget where all the death traps were. Francis deemed his home too cold, too foreboding, and something about lacking l'amour(whatever the fuck that was) anyway.

I have to admit that Arthur's house was dark. The inside layout of it was done all in dark mahogany, glossy with polish and scented faintly with lemon oil. The mansion was decorated with furniture spanning back innumerable centuries but not overly so. Arthur had admitted to me that his attic and sizable basement were both filled from top to bottom with odds and ends so that he could change out items when he could remember or be bothered with it. Most of the rooms were carpeted but all the hallways were hardwood, making the spaces in-between echo.

Oh and FYI, Arthur has a ridiculous amount of pifalls riddled into the very woodwork and only remembers the whereabouts of about half of them. If I wasn't a werewolf with supernatural strength, liquid fast reflexes, and an awesome healing ability, my happy ass would have been mincemeat by now. I have made it a point now during the day to disarm those bitches or at the very least locate them.

Another fun fact about vampires-they really like hidey holes. Arthur's mansion has a freaking maze of secret passages and rooms in it. I mean you could turn just about turn any weird looking lamp fixture by a mirror and it will open up something. I've only managed to map out about half of it…..I think…..cause I have to keep cleaning up little bone piles(after thoroughly checking for ghosts, of course…..Bite me, ghosts creep me out). More than one poor bastard had gotten lost in it.

I had also found loads of secret rooms, most of them with weird pentagrams carved into the floor. Other rooms had had some weird collections of fetish porn books and other things I would very much like to forget. I really wasn't too surprised by any of it(though I would have liked to unsee some of the more…..elaborate items) or that Arthur was a practicing magic user.

Yeah I know everyone believes that magic is real. I just chose to explain everything with science instead of hocus pocus. I mean seriously, come on monsters. We are in the freaking modern era now. We don't have to rely entirely on eye of newt, and toe of frog anymore, but whatever…

Francis's house…..for lack of a better word…..was fucking tacky as hell and the complete opposite of Arthur's(no real surprise there). Apparently, Francis had never met an archway he didn't like cause they were everywhere. Along with sweeping staircases covered in shimmering scarlet velvet, large rooms with their ceilings glittering with crystal chandeliers, and vases filled to the point of overflow with flowers, every room was an example of sensory overload. The frequent use of fountains was especially off-putting. I kept jumping between wanting to drink out of them or feeling like I needed to pee.

On top of that, I personally thought that Francey Pant's house reeked as well. While Arthur avoided odors, Francis seemed to be saturated with them. He smelled of rich food, wine, perfume, and various ointments for other nighttime activities. It was all making me gag and my eyes water.

"How do you live in this shit!?", I barked at Matthew in way of greeting, my ears flat against my head in disgust. Arthur gave me a sharp look at the sudden noise, but kept talking(i.e. arguing) with Francis. Not our fault they can't speak wolf.

"You get used to it.", Matthew woofed back, rolling his eyes, "Really Al, it's not so bad."

"Damn dude, he's already short bussed your nose.", I grumped as I followed them deeper into Francis's lair. It only got worse from that point on. I focused on Arthur's scent and my own to keep from mouth vomiting. Of course, Matthew noticed the change in it too.

"You finally marked him, eh?", Matthew's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he scented the air, "Aboot time. That took a while especially for you."

"I like a challenge,", I whined, glaring at my twin. I could smell that Matthew had been dominating the hell out of Francis, the vamp covered with his repeated marks, some of only a few hours old. Matthew eyed me with an unconvinced look but let it drop. It was just as well though. As busted as his nose was by now, he could definitely tell who was the bitch on our side.

We reached our destination which turned out to be a sunroom of sorts, an entire space enclosed completely with glass. It let in starlight and moonlight beautifully, the crystalline panes faceted with floral designs so that it cast the weak light in color spectrums. Some of them were open to let in the fresh night air. I only wished that all of them were. Pretty as it was, the room felt like a cage to me.

A few candles were spread about the room further illuminated the space though they weren't needed. Vampires and werewolves can see just fine in the dark. Light is for the living, but I'm sure it had something to do with Francis's l'amour bullshit. The room was filled with bouquets of overly scented flowers, the concentration of blooms giving me a fucking headache already. Funny looking chairs that weren't really chairs at all but things called settees were spread through out the room with a small table at the center of it. On the marbled surface of it were five long stemmed flutes and a dark wine bottle more than likely filled with blood, its top sealed with golden wax.

"Who else is coming? I thought it was just the Italians.", Arthur asked, raising a bushy eyebrow at the fifth wine glass.

"Norway haz decided to deign uz with hiz presence as well. I am thinking it will perhapz be interesting, non? Ze more, ze merrier.", Francis smiled at his surprised company, Arthur's eyebrows shooting up into his fringe.

"The Verdandi is coming? That may not bode well for us. He usually does not sully himself with the presence of others.", Arthur mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully with his fingers, "Did he say why or did you even bother to ask?"

"La, It waz not my decision. I just found out about it myself when I awoke. Feli sent word on ahead, zweet boy zhat he iz.", Francis puffed his cheeks out in irritation at the old English vampire.

"Bloody brilliant. You do realize they might be plotting against us you stupid frog.", Arthur snapped.

"Do you have any idea what they are talking about?", I woofed softly to Matthew, my ears going up in attentiveness, "Do you know who we are meeting?" as our vampires continued to argue.

"Arthur didn't tell you?", Matthew growled back, looking dismayed.

"He might have. I stopped paying attention at some point.", I admitted freely with a grin. I can't help it. I have a fetish for his accent. Arthur's not big on talking so when he does ramble on about tea, his garden, or whatever boring ass topic he likes, his accents lulls me into a state of vocal bliss as I listen to the way his words are said and not the actual content of them.

"You're ridiculous.", Matthew sighed, "Pay attention. We are meeting members of various clans tonight. Arthur and Francis are trying to make or reestablish alliances with them. That or at least touch base with them. It hard to tell. I don't understand vampire politics all the well yet."

"Ok…so boring shit.", I yawned, snapping my jaw with a click just cause I know Mattie hates it when I do that.

"Just try not to fall asleep.", Matthew sighed, face palming. As fun as it was to tease him, we broke off our conversation the moment the lines of our boundaries were broken. Unfamiliar scents rolled to us on soft breezes, the wind in our favor making our hackles rise, a deep growl escaping my throat.

"What is it?", Arthur asked, interrupting his witty atypical exchange with Francis.

"Your company has arrived.", Matthew growled low, his own ears and tail showing now(his control has always been better) .

"And they brought wolves with them too. Lots of them.", I added, sniffing at the air. "Three…no. Four. All male."

"Hmmmmm…..That is two more than I would have expected.", Arthur murmured more to himself than actually anyone in the room.

"That's four more than I expected.", I spat out, sorely pissed off. Me and Mattie so didn't want other wolves here. Despite our cool BA rep, a little known fact is that werewolves are gossips. If one wolf knows something, the entire tribe will know it soon enough. We were trying to keep all it all on the DL but this was going to fuck it all up.

Shit.

"Fuck. Too late now.", I groaned, running my hands through my hair harshly.

"Nothing we can do aboot it now. Just have to make the best of it.", Matthew sighed as we readied ourselves.

"These are peaceful negotiations. What is the problem, mon amour?", Francis asked, ignoring me entirely to focus on his wolf.

"Beside you assholes not giving us the 411?", I snarled, starting to pace as I considered shredding my suit. I would need room to move if things got ugly.

"Would you calm down and tell us what seems to be upsetting you two so much?", Arthur ordered, pointing to a chair(oh excuse me, gayass settee). I ignored his gesture, reminding myself to piss on that fugly piece of furniture later.

"Ok, quick update then. We ain't supposed to be here.", I told them bluntly, Matthew wincing from it.

"For the love of…", Arthur hissed, " 'Ain't' is not a word, git!…..and what do you mean by that?!"

"Here. In England. With Vampires.", I rounded it out.

"Things we may have needed to know beforehand, poppet.", Arthur said dryly while giving me a very sour look.

"Wishes and fishes, buddy. We're even now.", I huffed. We really didn't have time for this.

Our company had arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

Back to Arthur's POV again

Jesus bleeding wept, what a sodding mess this was of all things. Heaven, hell, and everything in between, save me from daft werewolves.

"Ah fuck me, it's too late now.", Alfred groaned, actually looking a bit worried which was never good sign for anyone's continued health or well being. Alfred was generally too stupid to consider anything worth worrying about.

"Nothing we can do aboot it now. Let's make the best of it, m'kay.", Matthew sighed as the two werewolves prepared themselves, their energy dancing about them, barely contained by their auras. It cast them in a golden light of rainbow colors that I could appreciate it if I wasn't so worried about my inwards being torn out from the outwards. For exactly what was left for Francis and I to guess, Matthew and Alfred very involved with each other, communicating back and forth in an odd series of yips and growls.

Since I like my blood and organs(whether they worked or not)to stay within the realm of my own body, I glared at my honey wolf, silently demanding information. He looked sheepishly back at me, his too blue eyes darting about in a nervous dance of concern and apprehension. I wasn't feeling too confident about the location of my kidneys in the near future based on that expression.

"Um, quick update. We ain't supposed to be here.", Alfred snapped out, the tension finally getting to him. Literally, his teeth were in the process of lengthening and changing. I winced as I heard his suit begin to tear at the seams as ears grew out from the top of his head and a tail whished between his legs. My wolf could never keep his human shape for long and his clothes suffered for it each and every time. Matthew sighed as he placed his face in his hands.

"Oh please, do tell. Don't hold back on the account that Francis and I may need to know anything vital.", I growled. My sullen disposition was not improved in the least when Alfred started to shred the ruined suit off of his body. "And while you are at it, cease and desist in butchering the King's English."

"I thought you had a queen….", Alfred mused, his ADD becoming prevalent.

"It's an expression, you git.", I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. A threatening was to emerge. "For the love of all that is unholy…".

"Mon amis, we have no time for your foreplay, as interesting as it is to watch.", Francis interrupted us with a patronizing tone, "Just tell us what you mean, oui?".

I glared acidly at the French vampire, but nodded back. I knew things were bad(near apocalyptic even) when the frog started to make sense of things. Surprisingly it was the quiet twin who came to the rescue. "We are not supposed to be in England. Um….even more so with vampires.", Matthew supplied in a dull tone.

"I managed out that bit of information for myself, thank you.", I said dryly, "How about the rest of it though? Where are you supposed to be, pray tell?".

"Kinda, maybe, sorta…..ruling over our respective tribes….", Matthew trailed off, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he started to bite his bottom lip. It took a moment for the news to settle in but it eventually did so with all the awkward heaviness of a stake to the heart. I can not say whose jaw hit the floor hardest, faster, or first, Francis's or my own.

"Sod all.", I rasped out between clenched teeth, trying to regain some mental footing, "So essentially what you are trying to say is that the two of you are…..princes?". Francis was making a choking sound somewhere behind me in the background. I ignored him.

"The PC term here is Chieftains, not princes, but yeah.", Alfred shrugged with a careless grin. A plethora of questions herded through my mind before one plunged through the forefront.

"How incredibly bloody stupid are the pair of you!?", I spat out, the effort aided by some wind magic on my part that made my cloak billow out and around me dramatically like a great pair of black wings reaching toward the heavens.

"Yeah? Well, we would have liked to know about the extra company coming tonight so we're even.", Alfred huffed, not impressed in the slightest by my sense of showmanship. Bloody useless git, probably thought I had a portable fan with me or something.

"We are most certainly not 'even' by any means or definition of the word!", I yelled, pleased to see Alfred and Matthew wince at the note of fury in my voice, my wolf's ears going back and his golden tail tucking between his legs.

As much as I would like shove my wolf's nose in the pile of shite he had made for me, we didn't have the luxury of time, and Francis and I needed to know certain necessary things as soon as possible. "Whoever heard such a to do.", I sighed, "Well come on then, tell us. What tribe are you the chieftains of?". Matthew and Alfred did nothing to alleviate the ill ease of the situation, the pair of wolves studying their feet and surroundings with an intense sense of wanting to be elsewhere.

"Come on, come on. Spit it out lads.", I prompted, snapping my fingers at the two blondes. It was Matthew who answered this time.

"All….of…them", Matthew muttered.

"Pardon? Come again?", I asked, really hoping I had misheard somehow, that my supernatural hearing precise enough to hear a pin drop a room away had somehow flailed me for a second.

"All of them.", Alfred growled low.

"You…..you are the rulers of the North American wolves? The pair of you dippy wankers?", the last bit was rather unkind toward Matthew, who had always seemed like a solid sort of chap to me. "You would like me to believe that you are the scions of your respective clans?"

"Tribes. We're werewolves, not vamps, Artie. We have tribes, not clans.", Alfred corrected, rolling his eyes. "Aren't scions like scones? Why would we burned baked goods?".

We all took a moment to stare at Alfred, Francis in open disgust with his teeth bared, Matthew in unsurprised acceptance of one who has had to tolerate vast amounts of stupidity for far too long, and myself in pained distress over my lover's ineptitude.. "Alfred, darling…..", I said overly sweet, pausing to gain his full, undivided attention, "Please refrain from speaking for the duration of the evening, my dear poppet. I truly fear that you will lower the group's IQ and we really can not afford to misstep with our present company.".

"Speaking of which, they are here.", Francis said softly, moving toward the door to greet our guests. With his usual sense of flair, the French vampire flung the entrance open wide.

The vampires had arrived at long last.


End file.
